


poetry slam

by smalltownmotel



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltownmotel/pseuds/smalltownmotel
Summary: Isak and Even are dragged along to a poetry slam which couldn't be more boring.





	poetry slam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GayaIsANerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayaIsANerd/gifts).



> Gaya, girl, this is your Secret Santa present!  
> I hope you enjoy it a bit lol (more than I did when reading what I had just written hdaogd)  
> Love youuuuu  
> Emil xx

Isak sighs. He loves Jonas, he really does. But the problem is, he’s a goddamn hipster. And apparently, poetry was his new obsession. After Isak had had to endure endless monologues about Alf Larsen and his criticism on fascist systems for almost three weeks, he’d almost laughed when Jonas had asked him whether he wanted to join him for a goddamn poetry slam.

“A poetry slam? Jonas, are you kidding?”, he had asked, imagining his Saturday evening being spent lazing in his bed watching Narcos already.

Turns out, Jonas wasn’t kidding and so Isak is here now- in some artsy basement in Grünerløkka, dimly lit by some expensive light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. “Fucking minimalism”, Isak mumbles and earns himself an elbow in the ribs.

Jonas fits right in here- there’s not a single person in this weird basement-bookshop thing that Isak couldn’t imagine Jonas having a discussion about the brutality of capitalism with.

Whatever, he’ll just veeery smoothly piss off to the toilet and let some time pass by there. As he turns around to ask Jonas whether he knows where the toilets are located at ( _hopefully they even have toilets here_ ), he finds him already talking to a girl with short blonde hair. Leaving his emotional support person to himself just like this? Rude.

While in the toilet, he sends about five voice messages to Magnus, complaining about Jonas and how he hates himself for even coming with him in the first place. When he leaves the stall, there’s a guy standing at the sinks, smiling at Isak through the mirror- he had probably heard Isak whining and- holy mother of god, he’s _beautiful_. Tall, dark blonde hair put up in a quiff, denim jacket. He doesn’t even look like all the other people here, trying to convey every single 2017 trend in one outfit- no, he just looks.. _normal_. And he’s hot.

Isak steps next to him, turning on the water just as the guy opens his mouth. “Seems like you’re just as happy as me to be here?” Bone dry sarcasm. Wow. Isak shrugs and chuckles at the same time, holding the guy’s gaze in the mirror. “My friend made me come here, so yeah..” Tall guy nods knowingly. “Same here. Mikael is absolutely obsessed with literature lately and he was like, offering me his mother’s food, so I couldn’t really opt out..”

So they are skipping the small talk, okay. An act which Isak absolutely adored. He smiles at him, not really knowing what to say.

But the guy doesn’t seem to expect an answer, because he finally breaks their eye contact, walking over to the box with the paper towels and starts pulling them out, which, well, is a normal thing to do for someone that just washed their hands.

Except, he doesn’t stop after two, or three, or even four (Isak always takes four at school because they have tissues with only one layer. Probably because they need to put all the money into all the whiteboards and beamers).

But no, tall guy takes five. Six. Seven. And so on. All of this while holding eye contact with Isak. Again. Maybe he isn’t as normal as Isak suspected, then.

The box is empty. “By the way, my name is Even, and you’re very welcome to join me on the most ratty couch located right by the door.”

And then he just leaves. Isak stares at himself in the mirror for a second. Then, he dries off his hands on his jeans (thanks Even) and follows.

Outside, everyone has sat down and Isak can’t spot Jonas anywhere. Of course not. _“Isak, please come with me, I need you there!_ ” Lies. Nothing but lies.

He had originally planned to just find a spot for himself and spend the whole time playing Candy Crush like some 11-year-old dragged along by his parents to some boring event. But if he thinks about it, joining Even on the ratty couch right by the door doesn’t sound half bad.

Approaching Even, he throws him a smile and then sits down next to him on the couch that indeed looks like someone stole it from a scrapyard. Well, Even’s looks make up for it.

Some guy enters a little stage in the front and starts talking. Isak scans the room with his eyes and finds Jonas sitting on a couch in the right corner of the basement, the blonde girl still next to him. Nice replacement.

Even bumps his shoulder. “I kind of find it really funny that five people in this room are wearing the same turtleneck as that guy there.” He’s right. Isak grins and bites his lip. “Even, shush. They’re much more individual than we are.” Even’s eyebrows shoot up, irony clear on his face. “Of course. Sorry.”

As the first people present their poetry, Even keeps commenting on everything. Funny ways they put their words, their outfits, their obvious arrogance, which sadly is a thing most of these people seem to carry. Isak has to admit that the poetry being presented isn’t even as bad or pretentious as he imagined, and that some of it would probably motivate him to think deeply about life, but Even, god, Even’s comments are the best.

He would feel bad, because people keep turning around whenever he giggles a little too loudly, and he knows he’s taking away the heat of the moment and dragging every single piece being presented into something that can’t be taken seriously anymore, but he has a pretty boy sitting right next to him making him laugh while also moving closer and closer to him, and so he really couldn’t care less.

He just hopes Jonas won’t notice, because he’s not really keen on being ignored by him for the next three weeks (Jonas always knows where the best parties are being held, so he’s _important_ )

But then they get too loud, and just as Even asks him, in the most serious voice, which makes it ten times funnier, whether he thinks all his knowledge is really just a belief taken for granted, because that’s a thesis the girl in the front has just stated, it happens. A tall guy that looks very pissed comes up to them.

Even immediately gets quiet, Isak desperately trying to fight back his smile. “Listen guys”, the man says, quietly but still angrily, “I’m the owner of this place and I’d ask you to leave please because you’re fucking annoying. For real.”

His glare allows no more questions and Isak and Even get off the couch, making their way outside while the people that had previously turned around give them death stares. Yikes.

As soon as they’re outside, they start giggling like 8-year-old schoolgirls. “Fuck, I can’t believe I just was this disrespectful”, Even snorts. “My mum would die, she raised me so much better!” Isak nods, is really fucking happy his mum didn’t witness this, and then they just laugh because the situation is so bizarre.

It’s chilly outside, and Isak regrets not having put on his warmer jacket. Why was it so goddamn _cold_ in December, Jesus.

Unsure about what to do now that going back inside isn’t an option, he looks at Even and- oh. He’s holding a blunt. God knows where he just got it from. “Wow, you came prepared”, Isak utters while shoving his hands as deep into his pockets as possible, praying they wouldn’t turn into ice blocks. Even’s eyebrows shoot up again- that seems to be a thing they do often- and then he grins.

“Always prepared for spending time with pretty boys.” And okay, wow, Isak fucking blushes at that. God, Even is _flirting_ and Isak is so obviously liking it, he hates himself. Whatever, it could always be the cold coloring his skin.

Needing distraction, Isak focuses on the street lamp behind Even. “And- where are we- well, supposed to smoke that?” “I know a place”, Even answers immediately, and then just walks away again. Okay.

They end up in a narrow and abandoned backstreet, standing opposite from each other with their backs against the wall and Isak feels the need to look out for possible witnesses as Even lights the blunt. But there are none. Isak suspects that nobody even knows this street, it’s so small.

Something about the situation makes him want to giggle- he’s out here, smoking weed with a guy who he just got kicked out of a poetry slam together with and that he’s also barely known for an hour. For all he knows, he could be a murderer and put god knows what into that blunt. But he’s _hot.. One day, his gayness will get him killed, he just knows it._

__

But Isak has a good feeling for this one.

__

They smoke in a comfortable silence, and Isak is only caught staring at Even twice. So that’s good.

__

After, everything’s floaty and warm and nice and the outside world seems to be lifetimes away. Even is still the most beautiful creature Isak has ever laid his eyes on. Fuck. They stand in their little backstreet, talking and talking for hours, or that’s what it feels like in their altered state. Isak realizes Even’s personality is just as good as his looks. His voice is deep and so nice and Isak wants to listen to him talking for hours.

__

The weed makes them fall into deep talk, discussing topics that they would’ve made fun of an hour ago. Isak learns that Even is bipolar, and that it’s a thing which he kept a secret from everyone he met for a long time, for fear of being rejected.

__

“Because I thought like, eventually I’d get depressed. And then all the qualities that made people like me in the first place would disappear. And it’s like you’re floating in a boat in the middle of a river, without rudder or sail and no wind. Nothing. And everyone’s standing at the riverside, all your friends, and your family, and they’re shouting for you to come back. But you just float further away from them.” Even looks up, his eyes blue and glassy.

__

And Isak nods. Because he knows, he has experienced it, the feeling of standing at the riverbank and shouting, shouting, shouting for his mum to hear him, and to come back. But he has experienced more than just that. “But there will come a day when you get back your sails, Even”, he tells him and Even smiles at him. No more words needed. But Even changes his position, and they’re standing next to each other now, their sides touching.

__

“Fuck, now we’re getting all deep. We’re such hypocrites”, Even laughs then, having recovered from the seriousness of the moment. Isak snorts because it’s true and their behavior in the bookstore becomes more and more embarrassing, looking back on it.

__

Standing right next to Even shouldn’t make Isak feel as warm as it does. But he notices Even’s smile as he gets the tiniest bit closer, so that’s that. They both know what they’re doing, then. Fuck, they’re such teenagers.

__

And just for a quick second, Isak second-guesses. Does he really wanna start having some weird kind of affectionate body contact with a guy he met today? Thinking about it, yes, because he hasn’t hooked up with anyone for six fucking months. And he deserves this. (And maybe he’s putting too much meaning into this right now anyway.) So he moves to cuddle closer, but in this moment, Even abruptly pushes himself off the wall.

__

“Do you hear the music?”, he says and starts walking. Isak doesn’t hear shit. But he follows him anyway, and then he hears it- well, if you can call it music, it’s more like a dull bass. The only sound Isak needs to get in the party mood. “There’s a club here? I had no idea.” Even smiles, and Isak already knows what’s gonna happen next. “So, we going in?” Hell yeah.

__

Inside, they leave their jackets at the wardrobes and make their way through the dimly lit club that’s moderately filled. There’s some leather couches resembling the ones from the basement-bookstore earlier in front of a curtain behind which the dancefloor seems to be.

__

People are either lazing around on the couches or standing around talking with bottles in their hands and there’s some gay couples making out and- wait a minute. There’s _only_ gay couples making out. He turns around and is met with a rainbow flag hanging on the wall. Solid proof. Oh my god.

__

Even, who’s ordering drinks at the bar located opposite the couches, looks at Isak questioningly when he pulls at his shirt. “Yo, Even, we just walked straight into a gay club. No pun intended, fuck.” Even just looks around for a moment, then laughs for a solid minute.

__

“Fuck, Isak, we’re geniuses.”

__

Isak agrees. But at the same time, he has some hopeful butterflies flying around wildly in his stomach- because Jesus, that was the last confirmation he needed. Fuck his nihilism for a quick moment, this is just _fate_.

__

Anyway, Even hands him a beer bottle and for the second time this evening, they sit down on a leather couch- this time, a lot closer to each other. “To us and finding gay environment by intention”, Even said, raising his bottle. “Skål”, Isak answers and they clack their bottles together before each taking a sip.

__

“But I have to say, beer is an incredibly straight drink.” Isak says while looking at Even with mock-judgement.

__

Even nods. “I’m sorry. Cocktails the next time then?” Isak nods, though he doesn’t even like cocktails, despite the name, but the fact that Even sees them having a “next time” would make him agree to everything.

__

The mixture of the weed, the alcohol and him not having eaten for several hours makes the alcohol go to his head immediately. Oh go- here comes straight-forward Isak. Letting out a little sigh, he puts his head down on Even’s shoulder, who chuckles.

__

If Isak was drunk, that laugh would’ve made him question everything. But he is. After one beer. Cheers to that.

__

So he lets his head be right where it is, and then Even puts his hand down on his knee. Wow. Okay. They sit next to each other without speaking, people around them laughing, talking, drinking. They both know what they’re doing.

__

Behind the curtain, the song changes, it’s a fast one, and cheering can be heard. Isak starts bouncing his leg up and down. “You want to go dance?”, Isak asks, and Even nods.

__

They leave their empty bottles at the bar, then enter the dancefloor. It’s pretty crowded here, and apart from the disco lights, dark. There’s some black light as well, and Even’s white shirt shines brightly.

__

They both start moving to the music, Isak being thankful for the darkness because it means Even won’t witness his non-existent dancing skills. It gets hot pretty fast, the crowd moving around Isak, his haze- and alcohol-induced state heating him up anyway.

__

And then there’s Even, directly in front of him, definitely a bit closer than he would _have_ to be. Isak takes him in- blonde hair no longer in a quiff but now brought down slightly by gravity and humidity, which makes him look even better. His nose, that could definitely be part of some Ancient Greek statue, because it’s just perfectly straight.

__

His eyes are mostly black, blue iris disappearing behind his pupils, bigger than normal due to weed and darkness. There’s a little dent in his chin, and Isak adores it. Moving up to his lips- fuck, they’re perfect. Full and pink and Isak wants to kiss them.

__

In this moment, said lips move up into a smile and a hand on Isak’s arm scares him for the tiniest moment, before he realizes it belongs to Even as well. Jesus, even his hands look like they were crafted by the gods. Isak adverts his gaze back to Even’s eyes. “Isak, you kinda look like you want to make out with me right now.”

__

Jesus. If someone ever asks Isak to define the word straight-forward, he’ll just say one word. Even.

__

Isak opens his mouth, matching Even’s smirk, because they both know it’s been moving towards this moment all evening, he can feel that, and there’s nothing better than being completely on the same page with someone. “Yeah, well, maybe I do.”, he finally answers.

__

Even’s gaze flickers down to Isak’s lips, then up to his eyes, then down again. Fuck. Isak feels warmth spread throughout his stomach. Then, Even gets closer to him, lips touching his ears as he says “Do it, then.” 

__

And Isak doesn’t need to be told twice, but just grabs Even and then their lips are touching and there’s fireworks going off in Isak’s head because it feels so _right_. Even wraps his arms around him, and Isak loves that he’s smaller than him because he feels like there’s Even around him and only Even, and they keep kissing and it quickly turns into full-on making out, and it’s messy and wet and wonderful.

__

They move closer and closer to each other until they’re pressed together as tightly as possible, but it still isn’t enough. Isak wants closer, and fuck, he feels so much more drunk than he should after one beer only. But he knows Even is to blame, Even with his lips and his tongue and his arms and his bulge pressing right into Isak’s.

__

And then Even pulls back and Isak opens his eyes and is about to frown and complain, but then Even’s mouth is by his ear again, this time biting his earlobe and sending shivers all over Isak’s body. “I literally never do this, but fuck, do you wanna go home with me?”

__

And Isak breathes out, trying to think clearly in the middle of this humid club full of sweaty people and too-loud music, with his brain feeling like there’s some kind of fog inside of it, clouding his thoughts. And, fuck it.

__

“Yes.”

__

That’s the only reaction Even needs, and he takes Isak’s hand and starts pulling him to the other side of the curtain again, passing the bar and the leather couches, finally arriving at the wardrobe. They hastily take their jackets. When they’re back out in the chilly night and start walking, Even is, once again, grinning. “I’m so fucking happy I let Mikael drag me along.”

__

The next morning, Isak wakes up to Even holding him. “I don’t have any clue how one night stands work”, he says. Isak snorts, then nods. “Neither do I.” “Good thing I never had one, then”, Even answers. And then grins, making the butterflies in Isak’s stomach immediately get to work again.

__

“So, what do you want for breakfast?”

__

Yes, Isak is also very fucking happy Even let Mikael drag him along.

__


End file.
